Regrets
by Melodic Confessions
Summary: My biggest regret, Mitchie Torres? Letting myself fall in love with you. Letting my guard down. Letting you see the depths of my soul. Because if I didn't, we probably wouldn't be in this mess right now.
1. Prologue: What I've Done

_Disclaimer: I do not own the works of Camp Rock._

I really don't know where I'm going with this. The idea popped into my head when I was wondering why in the world there are happy endings, and suddenly I just turned on my computer and started writing whatever my heart told me to. And, here I am. It's going to be a chaptered story -- I've got the first few chapters written, and this is just the prologue. If I get a good response from reviewers, then I'll post the rest of the story, but if I don't, then, it'll just be a story for myself.

The story won't be too long, like 25-30 chapters, but it won't be short either, like 3-5 chapters. I'm thinking somewhere around the middle, settling down for a comfortable 10-15. I hope you'll like it, and I hope you readers would like me to post the entire story.

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**Prologue**

_In this farewell  
There's no blood  
There's no alibi  
'Cause I've drawn regret  
From the truth  
Of a thousand lies_

What I've Done – Linkin Park

I always loved you, Mitchie. But standing here, watching the scene unfold in front of my very eyes, I'm starting to question that.

The first time I saw you – scratch, the _second_ time I saw you -- the first time, you told me off while you were covered in flour – I thought you were a goddess sent down from the Heavens. I'm not kidding, Mitchie, you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life.

And then we started talking. Started getting to know each other. And this seems strange, seeing as we'd known each other for about 5 days, but I was starting to fall in love with you – I really was. And then, came the lie.

It's funny – that was, what? Four years ago? Five? I don't even remember – The important thing is, I remember every second of it. From when Tess asked you about your mom, to when you revealed your secret, to when I rushed away from the scene. The truth is – after I ran away like that, I cried. I really did.

But you know what I regret the most? It's not because I haven't talked to you in four or five years. It's not that I didn't even give you a chance to explain yourself. It's not that I ran away from Camp Rock, ran away from everything, after that night.

My biggest regret, Mitchie Torres, is falling in love with you. I did. That's my mistake. I should have never let my guard down. I should have never let you inside, never have let you see the depths of my soul. If I never let myself fall in love with you, we wouldn't be in this mess.

I wouldn't be here, standing outside your dorm room, throwing rocks up at your window.

You wouldn't be up there, exasperated as hell, trying to get to sleep, but being disturbed by your wacko ex-boyfriend. Wait a second, we were never really together, were we? No -- I never let you close enough to give you that much commitment.

You know, I admit. I missed you. A lot. I was nothing without you – I really was. And maybe loving you will be the biggest mistake of my life.

But let's start from the beginning, shall we?

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What do you think? It's a lot different from most of things I usually write. It's slightly angsty, too, but not much. Right now, I'm contemplating whether or not they should have a happy ending. Happy endings are so cliche, don't you think? And they're unrealistic -- I don't have many happy endings in my life, and most other people don't either.

Well, I hope you liked it, even though that was extremely short. I will post the rest of the story depending on your responses. Which, in translation: If you review, I'll post more chapters ;D.


	2. Light Up the Sky

_Disclaimer: I do not own Camp Rock. Do you really think I'd be writing FANFICTION if I did?_

Here's the second chapter -- Or the first, technically, since the one that came before was the prologue. I decided that no matter how many reviews I get, I shall post the entire story on . I've already written Chapters 1-4, so I probably won't have problems with not updating frequently. I'm glad that some of you liked it!

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**Chapter 1: Light up the Sky**

_You're making a choice to live like this_

_And all of the noise, I am silence_

_We already know how it ends tonight_

_You run in the dark through a firefight_

_And I would explode just to save your life_

_Yeah, I would explode_

Light Up the Sky – Yellowcard

"It's your fault, Shane." Nate sighed, frustrated. I was going through one of my rockstar tantrums once again, leaving Nate, Jason, and our manager, Paul, to deal with me.

"Don't even say that." I spat, crossing my arms. I felt like a three-year old, but I was a rockstar three-year old.

"You never should have let her go." He just had to remind me, once again, that it was my fault. Oh, God, everything was my fucking fault around here.

"I know, I know, yada-yada-yada." I growled, reluctantly grabbing the mic. "Let's just get this finished. I wanna go home."

"10 minutes ago, you couldn't wait to get to the studio!" Nate exclaimed, but I shrugged. "Anyway, it was your choice. You could have chased after her and asked her why she lied, but you ran away, and left that night. You didn't even give her a chance to explain herself."

Oh, like I hadn't heard that one before. "Since when do you know so much about her anyway, Nathaniel?" I grumbled, and he blushed softly.

"Nothing, nothing. Anyway, we've got dinner plans tonight at 8, at that Italian place you love so much." He told me suddenly. I gave him a cold stare. "Don't worry, it's just a normal dinner, catch up with a few of our friends. Jason's going with some girl –." He gestured towards Jason, who was busy tuning his guitar. "Ella Gerard, I think."

The name rang a bell. Like I knew an Ella Gerard from somewhere. I tried to remember, but nothing came to my mind, so I shook the thought from my head. "Fine. You going with a date, too?"

"Yeah. She's a new girl – really cute. I – I think you know her from somewhere." Nate grinned, as though he held a secret inside his curly head. "You want a date, too? You don't have to have one, but it might be better if you do. Want me to set you up with someone? I know a great girl – she's your type. Cute, sweet, great voice, funny. I met her a few years back – she's great. She wasn't even fazed when she realized who I was. You'll really like her."

"Nah." I scowled. "I don't need a blind date to add to my to-do list."

"Okay. Let's start recording, then." He sighed, and we began to play some of the new songs we'd written for our new album.

"That was great, boys. Terrific job. That's all we need for today – we'll call you if we need any more. Thanks for stopping by." Paul praised, coming into the room as we set down our instruments.

"Bye, Shane, Jase. See you guys tonight, 'kay?" Nate waved as I snatched some of the few belongings I often brought when recording. "You sure you don't want me to fix you up?"

"No!" I nearly yelled, exasperated. I watched Nate shrug, walking out of the recording room, and suddenly felt a pang of regret. "Wait! Nate!"

"Yeah?" I wanted to wipe the knowing smirk on his face. I sighed, then looked back up at him, raising a hopeful eyebrow. "I'll call the girl. Trust me, you two are perfect for each other."

I rolled my eyes, finally getting my stuff together. I walked outside to the parking lot, dumping my stuff in the back of my Porsche, then turning the key in the ignition and driving off to my condominium.

Who was this girl that Nate was about to set me up with?

Cute, sweet, great voice, funny, and wasn't phased when she met a rockstar. Oh my God, she sounds so familiar. I swear, Nate just described –

No. It couldn't be. I'm just imagining things. My mind's going crazy without her – well, I'll prove to her, and everyone else, that I could function without her.

But it's such a strange coincidence – Nate couldn't possibly set me up with her… Could he? No, he couldn't. How would he meet her in the first place, anyway? Of course, there was the possibility that – Nah, it couldn't be.

Could it?

I parked the car abruptly, grabbing my things, and ignoring the strange looks from pedestrians; they never got used to the fact that Shane-fucking-Gray lived next to them. I nodded to the person at the front desk, and I fake-smiled at the few neighbors who cared, and I finally got to my condominium, the only space that I truly owned, and no one else.

Kicking my possessions aside, I rushed into the bathroom. My cheeks were pale, flushed, almost, and my hair was sticking up. My eyes were still the dull shade of boring brown they were. Mitchie had told me they were golden once, but I guess they settled down without her. My own body was thinner, not as fit, as it had once been. I groaned, splashing myself with a spritz of cold water from the sink.

I flopped onto my bed, still unmade from this morning, and the world slowly faded from my sight as I fell into nothingness.

"Shane! Shane, look at me!" Nate cried, and I rolled my eyes, looking at what he wanted me to give my attention to this time.

A yelp escaped my throat; not much a yelp, more like an exclamation filled with anguish and misunderstanding and confusion and… What the hell was Nate kissing my ex-girlfriend?

"M—Mitchie?" I choked out, and she broke away from Nate, pausing to give me a smirk, a smirk I didn't recognize, a smirk that tore into my chest and ripped up the pieces of my heart that Mitchie hadn't already taken.

"You had your chance, you blew it." Mitchie shrugged, and resumed kissing Nate, and I witnessed their feverish makeout.

"You're kidding me." I spat coldly, and suddenly we were on a cliff; I had no idea where we were, but I had this feeling something strange and dangerous was about to happen.

Suddenly, Mitchie tripped; I don't even know how, she tripped, and all of a sudden she was tumbling over the edge, and Nate had left, and I was the only one left to save her. I screamed, running after the falling beauty, crying her name over and over again.

"Mitchie! Mitchie, wait, come back!" I shouted, but she didn't listen, she fell, and fell, and fell, until she lay a broken heap upon the sharp rocks that had awaited her death, all the while, "This is Me" played from the background.

"This is real

This is me

I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, now

Gonna let the light shine on me…"

I shot up, my body sweaty; I was trembling all over, and my strange dream was imbedded into my mind. What was that dream all about, anyway? What had happened – Nate and Mitchie were kissing; Mitchie told me I blew my chance with her; we appeared on a cliff; Nate left, and Mitchie died, while This is Me played in the background. What did that mean…?

Suddenly, I was aware that This is Me was still playing. At first, I wondered if I was still dreaming, but then I realized my phone was ringing, playing the ringtone I had never bothered – never wanted, really – to change after my harsh falling out with Mitchie.

"Nate the Worrywart" flashed on the screen, and I had the urge to press "Busy", but I decided to answer it, fearing the worst.

"What do you want, Nathaniel?" I asked, trying to make myself sound annoyed and bothered by his concern.

"You're freaking late, Shane!" He shrieked, and I shot up once again from my comfortable position, pausing to look out the open window; holy shit, he was right! I checked my oh-so-reliable alarm clock that I had apparently set for 5:30 PM, and it read 8:29 PM instead. "You were supposed to be here at 8! Your date thinks you're bailing on her!"

"Right, right, sorry, man, sorry! I'm getting ready as we speak. I'm coming, don't worry, I'm coming!" I assured, and Nate let out an exasperated sigh.

"Alright, alright. Just be sure to be here soon. We've already started the appetizers; if you're not here in 5 minutes, we're starting the whole meal without you!" He warned, and I rolled my eyes; only Nate would think the only way to lure someone is food.

"Yeah, yeah," I sighed, "I'm coming soon."

"You better!" Nate threatened, and hung up the phone. I tossed my iPhone onto my still-messy bed, and hopped into the shower, rinsing, not bothering to shampoo or soap. I quickly slipped on a pair of skinny jeans, an old shirt, and a large jacket to cover up my bed-head, and sprinted down the stairs, hopping into my car. As I started driving towards the restaurant. I check the clock: 8:34. God, I was fast. I stopped the car, locked it, and ran into the restaurant, finding my friends' table with a minute to spare.

"Phew. Told you I'd be here, Nate. Now where is that beautiful girl you were telling me abou—." I cut myself off, staring at the brunette that gave me a shy smile. She couldn't be – this isn't happening. It couldn't be. No, no, it couldn't be. "Mitchie?"

"In the flesh." She flashed me a grin, and I promptly stared. She was still as beautiful as she always had been, her voice melodic. "I'm really sorry about our past – How about we just forget everything and start over? Friends?" She offered me a small hand, and I shook it softly, afraid I would break the fragile specimen.

"And, here is your date!" Nate said suddenly, and I gave him a strange look. "This, Shane, is Tess."

"Tess?" Mitchie and I both shrieked, just as surprised. "Tess who?"

"Tess Tyler, of course! Daughter of T.J. Tyler; she's terrific, absolutely perfect for you Shane." Nate said, just as Tess flounced in, flipping her hair disgustingly.

"Hi, Shane." She purred seductively, and I grimaced.

"So – wait! What's Mitchie here for?" I asked, confused.

"Mitchie's my date." Nate shrugged.

I think the world ended at that point.


	3. Until You're Mine

_Disclaimer: I do not own this amazing movie we call Camp Rock._

Hope you liked that little cliffy. I'm still debating over the happy ending or not, and unfortunately, I'm leaning towards the unhappy ending. -- sigh -- I'm having a battle with myself... I feel so insane. Sorry this chapter's a bit short.

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**Chapter 2: Until You're Mine**

_My state of mind  
Has finally got the best of me  
I need you next to me  
I'll try to find  
A way that I can get to you  
Just wanna get to you  
The world I see is perfect now  
You're all around  
With you I can breath_

Until You're Mine – Demi Lovato

"Shane? Shane, silly, what are you doing?" Tess asked, her voice high-pitched and shrill. I was shaken out of my trance, and I glanced back at Mitchie and Nate. Now that I was looking more closely, I spotted Nate's fingers intertwined in Mitchie's, and they were sitting unusually close.

I ran a hand through my hair, which was still damp from my quick-shower. I took a deep breath, rubbing my neck, and finally said, "I need to go get some air." and before Nate, Mitchie, or Tess could protest, I promptly stomped out of the restaurant, stopping to sit on the pavement. I slumped onto the edge of the sidewalk, watching cars pass by, and ignoring the strange looks from people walking by. Suddenly, I felt a soft hand land on my shoulder, and I jumped. "Oh! Mitchie, it's you."

"Shane. Sorry, did I startle you?" A faint blush crept upon her flushed cheeks, and I couldn't help but smile.

"No, no. I'm good." I sighed, sitting back down. I patted the seat by me awkwardly. "Sit down."

"Er – Ok?" She raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, smoothing out the wrinkles of her dress before taking a seat on the ground next to me. The silence was sickening – we just sat there, avoiding each others' eyes.

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to, I just had to. I had to ask the question that I was dying to ask. "Since when are you dating Nate?" I blurted, before I had time to convince myself not to.

She squirmed uncomfortably, and I could tell she didn't like my question too much. Mitchie coughed a little, her cheeks turning pink again. Finally, she opened her lips to speak, "Since he was there, and you weren't, Shane."

I coughed this time, turning a deep shade of red. "Mitchie, I'm sorry, I --." I began, but she interrupted me before I could finish.

"S'okay, Shane. But the thing is – Nate's a great guy. I – I love him, I do. And he's there for me, he doesn't care when I cry, he let's me explain before assuming, and he let's me be myself without worrying. And he's not a jerk." She said the last part as a joke, and I chuckled softly, thoughts running through my mind.

"I guess I deserved that. How long've you guys been dating?" I looked away, staring at the city lights, then glanced back at her. The light framed her perfectly, showing off her naturally high cheekbones and beautiful auburn hair.

"For a few months, now. He recognized me when I was talking to the record company, we started talking, he asked me to dinner, and it was all uphill from there." She chirped, trying to make me as cheerful as she was. Unfortunately, that just wasn't happening.

"How serious are you guys? Are you – Are you getting married any time soon?" I asked, refusing to look her in the eyes. I stared at the ground instead, glaring at my new loafers, that already had scratches, and the color was fading.

She did not answer. The silence engulfed us once more, only interrupted by the chatter of passerbyers and the honking of cars. I looked back at her; she, too, was staring at the ground, a melancholy look drowning her breathtaking features, and I suddenly had the urge to stare at her ring finger.

"Oh, God!" I exclaimed, standing up. I ran another hand through my hair, which had dried by now. "God, Mitchie! What the fuck? I thought you were going to wait until marriage?!"

There, sitting around her thin ring finger, was the ring I knew so well. In fact, I had gone with Nate to buy it. I had one similar to it sitting on my own finger. It was Nate's purity ring.

"Shane!" Mitchie pleaded. "People are staring!"

I didn't give a damn. Mitchie, my Mitchie, had her first time with Nathaniel Black, my so-called best friend. Suddenly, the world was crashing down on me.

"I can't believe you!" I screamed. "What happened to 'I've got a purity ring'? Whatever happened to 'I'm waiting till marriage', Mitchie? What happened to that? Why are you out having sex with my best friend?" The last question came out softly, almost a whisper. My voice had cracked, and Mitchie was crying now.

"He's my boyfriend. I think I deserve to have those privileges." She crossed her arms indignitantly. "It was my choice, Shane Gray. He doubted it was the right one at first, but we were in love. Why do you care anyway, Shane? Huh?"

"Mitchie." I sighed, cupping her face in my hands. She pulled away almost immediately, backing up in her ballet flats. "Mitchie, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, Shane." She mumbled, then ran back into the restaurant, leaving me to wonder what could have been.

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Yargh. Don't hate me for leaving you with cliffies all the time.

Here's a decision for you guys:

Should Mitchie, Nate, and Shane have a happy ending or not?

Tell me in a review, PM, anything. Adios.


	4. Angels or Devils

_Disclaimer: I do not own the totally hot Jonas Brothers. Sorry, just had to add that in. I am such a pathetic fangirl..._

I didn't really like this chapter, but I didn't have the heart to rewrite it. The whole drunk thing seemed a bit unrealistic, but, you're the reader, so tell me your opinion.

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**Chapter 3: Angels or Devils**

_This is the last time  
That I'm ever gonna come here tonight  
This is the last time I will fall _

_Into a place that fails us all inside  
I can see the pain in you  
I can see the love in you_

Angels or Devils – Dishwalla

I paced outside of the restaurant.

Mitchie had sex with Nate. Nate was Mitchie's first time. What was wrong with the world? Is life just some kind of twisted, cruel, sick joke played on the innocent victims that just so happen to live it?

But what bothered me the most, I guess, was the fact that Nate had gotten what I wanted. That never happened – never. And this was going to be the last time it happened. I wanted to be Mitchie's first time. I wanted to be Mitchie's future husband. I wanted to be the boy who Mitchie came to, each and every time. I wanted to be the only man Mitchie kissed, the only man Mitchie loved, the only one she would look at with those loving brown eyes of her.

But instead, Nate was that man. It was killing me inside.

Suddenly, the doors of the fancy restaurant burst open, and out came an angry Nate. A very angry Nate.

"What the hell is wrong with you, man?!" He cried, running a hand through his wild curls. He had the nerve to ask what was wrong with me? He was the one dating the love of my life, kissing her, breaking the promises she was supposed to save for me…

"What?" I snapped, and his expression became outraged.

"You sent her back in tears, Shane! Tears! I hate it when she cries! And now, she is sitting in the bathroom, crying her eyes out, because the man who accused her of lying is angry because she got over it! What. The. Hell. Shane? What the hell?" He screamed at me; I'd never seen him so angry. I immediately felt guilty.

"I'm sorry – sorry, Nate. It's just," I glanced back at him; his face was red, his eyebrows slanted, his eyes cold and piercing. "Why are you dating her? Since when? Mitchie – seriously, man, Mitchie?"

"What's wrong with her, huh? She's beautiful, she's sweet, she's funny, a terrific musician – you're just jealous because you let her get away!" He accused, and suddenly a fire ignited in me. Before I could stop myself, my hands balled into tight fists, and I slammed all the anger I had into Nate's jaw.

"NATE!" Mitchie screamed, and I turned, watching her tend to the fallen boy. I looked at my fist; it was sore, throbbing, and I watched Mitchie stroke Nate's head as he tried to grin, and I had the sudden urge to become Nate; I wanted Mitchie to stroke my head, kiss my cheek, waste her tears over me, kiss my forehead…

I stepped forward, unsure of what exactly was happening. Few people had noticed what was going on – Tess, Jason, and his Ella were certainly still in the restaurant, and nobody was calling the police on us, so I figured we were fine. I inched closer and closer, and yet, nobody was paying attention to me; everyone was focused on Nate.

Suddenly, Mitchie finally noticed me coming closer. "Get the hell away from me, Shane Gray!" She shrieked, and I backed away immediately. Mitchie Torres never cursed. "You've done enough damage!"

I grimaced, backing away even faster as she shot me a glare. Her eyes pierced my heart, and before I knew it, I was walking away, jogging now, sprinting, and finally, a full-on run. I was running, running away from this, running away from Mitchie and Nate, from their love, from our love, from what could have been… I was running away from my problems. Who knew whether it would fix anything, but for now, it would do.

Finally, after my lungs begged me to stop and give them a rest, I observed my surroundings, and I realized I was lost. The night had engulfed all evidence of the day, and I could barely see where exactly I was. A few dim lights lit the area, and I could make out a large building where lots of yelling and laughing was erupting inside. After catching my breath, I slowly made my way towards the building, unsure of what I would find.

As it turned out, it was a bar. I watched as women wearing nothing but their underwear slid up and down poles, drunken men watched them hungrily, and a few people played pool, occasionally downing a beer. I wandered through the place, lost, unfamiliar, when suddenly a man yelled something out at me.

"Er – pardon?" I asked, trying to be polite – these people weren't exactly the kind you could be rude to.

"I said, you're Shane Gray!" He shouted, his words slurred, his actions sloppy. "You're that fag who sings pansy songs!"

I felt indignant. "I am not a fag." I snapped; by now, a bit of a crowd had gathered around me and this man. He wore a large mustache, and his face was scarred, as though he'd been in many fights. His clothes were dirty, stained, and in both of his hands he gripped half-full beer bottles.

"Then prove it! Drink!" He announced, and soon everyone was chanting my challenge. I scratched my head, glancing at my promise ring. I had made a vow to God, to my parents, to everyone, that I would not have sex before marriage, drink, or do drugs. Was I going to waste everything because some man called me a fag who sings pansy songs?

"Give me a beer!" I demanded. I guess I was.

One hour and 10 beers later, the world was collapsing around me. My vision was blurred, I could barely walk, and I was stumbling everywhere. I tripped over feet, ran into walls, until I finally reached the bar.

"Gimme another beer, man." I ordered, slamming my fist on the counter. "Now!"

"No, sir. You're drunk enough." Mr. Bar-man sneered, and I yelped as some of the other men began to crowd around me.

"Yeah, you little drunken fag!" They cheered, and I frowned. "You can't even get past 10 beers!"

"Well, neither can you!" I began to reply, but it was too late. They carried me outside, to the alley where I had found this strange, unfamiliar place. The last thing I can remember is screaming, before everything suddenly went black.

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How was it? Terrible? Okayish? Wonderful?


	5. I Hate Everything About You

_Disclaimer: Still don't own anything..._

Thanks for the support and reviews, you guys! I love reading each and every one, and replying! Every word, every alert, every favorite makes me smile and think "Someone out there actually reads my stories and likes them".

Here we go. The fourth chapter of "Regrets".

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**Chapter 4: I Hate Everything About You**

_I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you?  
You hate everything about me  
Why do you love me?  
I hate  
You hate  
I hate  
You love me  
I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you?_

I Hate Everything About You – Three Days Grace

"Oh, God. What the hell happened last night?" I moaned, rubbing my sore head. I slowly tried to sit up, but after discovering the task was impossible without suffering some kind of pain, I lay back down, only to find someone laying next to me. "Oh my God! Mitchie, you freaking scared me."

"Sorry." She mumbled timidly, quickly standing up. "I was worried about you." She admitted, another faint blush covering her cheeks. I couldn't help but smile and she looked down at her feet. "Shane, what were you thinking?"

"I – I don't know. I barely remember what went on last night." I groaned, my head throbbing. Mitchie took a step to leave, and I suddenly blurted, "Mitchie! Mitchie, wait. Don't leave yet. Please, don't leave. I – I think we need to have a nice, long t – talk."

She sighed, then nodded softly. "I agree. Okay, first, let's start with what happened last night, whatever that was." Mitchie raised a thin eyebrow at me, and I nodded eagerly. "I'm not actually sure what happened. You punched Nate," – she shot me a cold glare – "then ran off. I was making sure Nate was okay, and he insisted he was, and then he suggested we find where you ran off to. So I said alright, then we went inside to tell Tess, Jason, and Ella where we're going. By the way, Ella is the one we met at…" She gulped, looking down. "Camp Rock."

I gulped too, and I felt my Adams apple bob up and down. "That's why she sounded so familiar." I tried to flash a cheeky grin.

Mitchie giggled, smiling, almost sadly, then continued her story. "So Nate and I drove around where we thought you had run off to. I said we ought to walk, but he said no, I'm such a beautiful girl, and he doesn't want anything to happen to me, because I'm the most important thing in his life right now…" She rambled, and I squirmed uncomfortably.

I coughed loudly. "And…?"

"Right. Sorry." She blushed. "And then we found you, laying in the alley by an old bar. Some men were crowding around you, but they scrammed as soon as they saw our headlights. And so Nate told me to stay in here, because he didn't want me getting hurt, then he helped you up and loaded you into the backseat. And then Nate looked me in the eyes and said, 'Mitchie, I hope you never have to see anything as scary as this. If that was you out there, I could have died.' and then he began to kiss me, and it was so wonderful, because he'd never kissed me like that before, and…" She started to ramble again.

"Mitchie." I groaned, a hint of pain and annoyance in my cracking voice. "I really don't want to hear about you and Nate making out."

"I'm sorry, Shane." She apologized, blushing, and I sighed, covering my face in my hands.

"You really love him, don't you?" I asked, my voice muffled slightly by my skin.

"What was that?" Mitchie called; I uncovered my face to find that she had crossed the room, tracing some of the pictures I had displayed on the coffee table: A picture of Mitchie singing; Nate, Jason, and I, smiling happily; me and my family, before my father died; my dog, Steak, who died a few years back…

"I said, YOU REALLY LOVE HIM, DON'T YOU?!" I screamed the last part, unable to hold it in anymore. She gave me a strange look, but I ignored it; I was on a roll. "What the fuck, Mitchie? I leave with you heartbroken, and me not giving a crap. What kind of sick twist is this? Suddenly, I'm the one with the broken heart, and you're the one flaunting your new boyfriend in my face?"

I shocked her into silence. And suddenly, she spoke again. "Shane, are you angry because I'm happy?" She asked softly, refusing to look me in the face. I groaned again, running a hand through my hair; it seemed to be becoming a habit these days…

"Yeah. I guess I am." I growled, and she let out a frustrated sigh.

"I hate you." She spat, and my eyes widened in anger.

"What did you say?" I asked incredulously, shooting up from my position on the bed. "What did you say to me, Mitchie Torres?"

She took a deep breath, and I scooted closer until we were chest-to-chest. She glared at me, eyeing me, then spoke, "I. Hate. You."

"Well, I hate you, too!" I roared.

"I hate you more!" She challenged.

"You're a bitch!" I screamed.

"You're an ass!" She hollered. I scooted up closer than I thought was possible, and our lips were barely a centimeter apart, I could feel her hot breath upon my neck.

"I love you." I blurted suddenly.

"What?!" She shrieked, and before she could protest, I crashed my lips violently upon hers. Mitchie stiffened, and suddenly relaxed into the kiss. I pulled her closer, and before I knew it, I was kissing every part of her body I could find, and she was moaning my name, "Shane… Shane…"

As I began to remove her shirt, she suddenly pushed me away roughly, gasping for breath. "What's wrong, Mitchie? You weren't so reluctant to do this with Nate." I sneered, hating myself inside.

"I wasn't because I loved him." She sent me a glare, and she straightened her shirt, ran a hand through her hair, and flounced out of the room, running back to her beloved Nate, leaving me in the dark again, wondering why couldn't I be the one she was rushing to as we speak.


	6. That's What You Get

**Chapter 5: That's What You Get**

_I can't decide  
You have made it harder just to go on  
And why?  
All the possibilities…  
Well I was wrong  
That's what you get when you let your heart win_

That's What You Get – Paramore

I groaned, running a hand through my hair for about the millionth time that week. I really had to stop it before it became a habit.

Thousands of things were running through my mind…

When did Nate meet Mitchie?

Why did Mitchie decide to "do the deed" with Nate?

How come Mitchie kissed me, then just left?

Why did Mitchie spend the night?

And most importantly…

Why doesn't Mitchie love me?

So much was invading my mind, but they all had the same thing in common.

Mitchie.

Suddenly, my phone rang, shaking me violently out of my Mitchie-related thoughts. I read the screen – Nate.

I groaned once more. Even my ringtone – "_This is Me_" – had something to do with Mitchie.

"Yeah?" I asked, answering the phone.

"Shane." His tone was dangerous, angry. Oh, no, he didn't find about about me and – "You kissed Mitchie!"

Oops. Too late. "Erm – yeah?"

"What. The. Hell." Nate growled, and I could hear sobbing in the background. Mitchie, I presume. Suddenly, a loud rumbling noise erupted, and I was forced to hold my iPhone inches away from my face.

"Shane, I think it'll be better if we forget about this and just stay away from each other right now. I'm sorry, bye." Mitchie's voice suddenly came onto the line, and my heart dropped. I could hear arguing, Nate's angry shouts and Mitchie agonizing screams. I realized Mitchie forgot to press the "End Call" button. I sighed, debating whether or not to invade their well-deserved privacy.

To hell with privacy. I bit my lip, then hit the speakerphone and listened intently.

"What are you doing out with my best friend, Michelle Torres? What are you doing, making out with my best friend?!" Nate yelled.

"Nate, I'm sorry." Came Mitchie's soft voice, and I felt guilty for forcing her into this mess.

"I'm sorry, too, Mitchie." Nate whispered, and they mumbled a few things I couldn't make out. Finally, they began speaking clearly again. "Just tell me – who do you love more? I understand you love both of us – I understand your position, Mitchie. But just, just please, please tell me who you love best? Shane? Or me?"

I crossed my fingers, biting my lip hard until the metallic taste of my own blood dripped into my mouth. I swallowed, wiping away the red substance, then pressed my ear up against the phone, not caring that it was already on speaker.

"I – I don't know, Nate." Mitchie murmured.

"Crap, Mitchie." Nate groaned, and I heard him pace around the room. "You don't know who you love more – the guy who broke your heart, or the one who mended it? Crap." I heard a soft sob erupt from Mitchie, then Nate's soothing voice. "Mitchie, Mitchie, don't cry, please, don't cry."

"I – I – I'm s – so–o–o sorry, Nate." Mitchie cried, her voice coming out in shaky breaths.

"Shh, shh, s'okay, Mitchie. Please, don't cry." Nate whispered, and I couldn't hear their soft voices after that.

"Nate, I think I need some time alone. To think." Mitchie finally said quietly. The line was silent and awkward, and I could hear Nate's labored breathing.

"What?!" Came Nate's exasperated voice. Mitchie was silent. Everything seemed to freeze, and I felt like I was in the room, watching this horrific fight. "You know, I was going to ask you to marry me today." Nate was screaming now, his voice cracking, and I knew he'd broken down and cried. "I was going to kneel down and give you a damn ring, Mitchie! But then you call, and I come running to your apartment, and now you're telling me you've been kissing my best friend behind my back, and you don't know who you like better!"

"I'm sorry!" Mitchie screamed, her voice filled with anguish. Silence engulfed the couple and the man who had broken the two up, who was secretly listening to their private conversation.

"Ok." Nate said simply, then I heard him thrust the phone into his pants pocket, hearing the stomping of his feet as he rushed out the door.

I threw the phone onto my bedspread as if it were boiling hot. Then, I walked slowly toward it, pressing the "End Call" button.

Oh, crap. I really screwed everything up. Three lives, and one perfectly happy couple are now ruined because I'm in love with a girl. Again, my ringtone shook me violently out of my twisted thinking, as "Light Up the Sky" by Yellowcard played, signaling a text message. I gasped; "Mitchie", it read on the screen. I took a deep breath, then pressed the "Yes" button.

_I know you were listening. I didn't press "End Call" on purpose._

I gulped softly. She didn't sound as though she regretted it. I sighed softly, then texted her back.

_I'm coming. I'm sorry for everything, Mitchie. I'm coming._

I sent the message, grabbed a jacket, my wallet, a book, and my phone, then zoomed out the door, starting my car, then heading towards Mitchie's apartment, the address I wasn't supposed to know, but had imbedded into my mind.


End file.
